Last Chance (Chances Novel Book 1)

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Last Chance (Chances Novel Book 1) Page 7

by Kyleigh Castronaro


  “I wish you wouldn’t.”

  “Wouldn’t what?”

  “Gamble so much. It’s fine when you’re winning, but what about when you lose?”

  “I never lose.”

  “Maybe, but you’re going to lose eventually.”

  “It doesn’t happen to me.”

  “Okay, but what about the money you’re throwing away by betting? Isn’t there something more you want?”

  “Something more like what?”

  "I don't know, but that's not the point. My point is you could be doing a lot more with the money you're earning. Sometimes I feel like you're wasting it."

  “You think tonight was a waste?”

  “I think you’re twisting my words up.”

  “Well, you’re not clear about what you want.”

  “I don’t know what I want. I’m saying-”

  “Let’s not make this into a fight, Tonight was a great night, let’s end it on a high note.”

  Honey looked conflicted for a moment before glancing away to stare out the massive windows overlooking the city.

  “I’m not trying to fight, I’m trying to express how I feel about your gambling. I think it’s a waste.”

  "It's not a waste if I'm winning."

  "For now." She said bitterly, finally rising off the couch and walking into the bedroom. Shep stood there for a moment, sipping his water before following after her. She was undressing thoughtfully as he walked up behind her to help with the zipper. He felt her tense under his fingers, and he finished unzipping her before walking away.

  He didn't leave the room but stood by the window looking out over his city. He was still thinking about what she said - using his money for something more. Wasn't Honey his something more? Wasn't doing all this for her something more?

  He sighed and glanced over his shoulder, seeing that she was settling into bed though still actively not looking at him. Something was bothering her, that much was clear, but he had no idea what he was supposed to say, or do, to make it better. This weekend was supposed to go better than this. It was supposed to make her see how much he loved her. Instead, she wanted to change him.

  He had changed, he told himself, after that first talk with Jeremy when she rejected him, he had toned it down. Okay, he had gone a little big this weekend, but it felt special. They were finally saying 'I love you' and shouldn’t they have a nice memory attached to that. This was something more, couldn't she see that?

  “Are you coming to bed?" He looked over his shoulder again, surprised that she spoke. This time, however, she was looking directly at him, and if she was still upset, it wasn't evident in her features.

  “Yeah, I am." He said, finishing his water before walking back over to the bedside. He set the glass down and began to peel off his clothing, taking the time to fold them methodically out of habit and set them down on the chair in the corner.

  When he was finished, he pulled back the covers on his side and climbed in beside her. He didn't know what else he was supposed to say or do, mostly out of fear of saying or doing the wrong thing. He didn't want this to dissolve into another argument, choosing instead to lay there in calm silence.

  Honey made the next move, shifting beside him carefully and curling up against his body. Every action was tentative, an uncertainty still hung between them after the upset and neither wanted to rock the boat again. Shep wrapped his arms around her carefully letting his hand rest against her stomach. They laid there like that for a few moments until she shifted back.

  It was a silent surrender, a white flag and his arm tightened around her slightly. She laid there, pressing back against him. What started as a seemingly innocent gesture quickly dissolved into something more as she pushed harder against him, wriggling enough to tease. If either of them felt like they needed to apologize, this was good enough.

  He leaned down, his lips pressing to the curve of her neck. She shivered beneath his touch, her body curving more against his. His hand tugged at the silky nightgown she was wearing, pulling it up over her thighs letting his fingers trail along the soft skin underneath.

  It was easy to fall into her; into this moment. It was far too easy for him to forget her concerns and what she had said. He liked it better this way where he could forget, and there was no consequence for it. As long as they both enjoyed the moment.

  Honey turned in his arms, wrapping her own around his neck tightly and held herself close to him. His lips moved up along her neck, across the contour of her jaw and the fleshiness of her cheek until his lips found hers. He kissed her, ferociously, and felt his own body alight with a slow burn he knew would never go out.

  Chapter 15

  2019

  Adam looked him over, made a noise of approval and walked out of the room again. Shep sighed, looking longingly at the bathroom wishing he could have another smoke. Who would have thought that dredging up the past like this would make him so uncomfortable?

  Not because he was thinking about Honey but reflecting on that summer with fresh eyes and beginning to see the cracks that were forming that his younger self had been oblivious to.

  Sure, he had age and wisdom on his side now. He had lived life at this point, understood women a lot better than he had then, and well, frankly, he had a lot of that owing to Honey.

  He rose from the bed, shuffling to the bathroom with quick glances at the door trying not to get caught. As he reached the door, the board in the hall creaked, and he sighed knowing Adam was returning as the man came back in.

  “Let’s go over her profile again.” He was holding that damn i-Doohickey. He had no idea how to use it, but three-year-olds nowadays could. Wasn’t that a kick in the ass?

  “I don’t need to see her Adam. I know she’s a good-looking woman. You wouldn’t insult me by setting me up with someone I wouldn’t be attracted to.”

  “No, I mean the profile part that tells you what she likes.” It didn’t matter what she liked. He probably didn’t like it. He was a simple man with simple, but expensive, tastes. He was uncomplicated, and this dating predicament was precisely the kind of complication he tended to try and keep out of his life.

  However, one trait Adam had inherited from him, and not from Elle, was stubbornness. He knew his oldest wasn’t moving until he looked at the damn profile. With a sigh of resignation, he walked back toward the bed as Adam sat down and patted it. Like he was a child.

  Damn doctor.

  The bed sunk as he sat down on it and he held out his hand for the device. Adam had already fished up the profile, showing a woman leaning against a fence, smiling happily at the camera. He wondered who had taken the photo for her. It was nice, almost looked professional. He couldn't imagine putting that kind of money into a dating profile. He hoped she hadn't either.

  "This outfit isn't going to work." Shep rose abruptly, tossing the i-Doohickey on the bed before wandering back to his closet. He'd already gone through the majority of the choices within, but it was time for a second glance and this one he hoped held the answer he sought.

  Shep was grumbling to himself about how none of it was good enough, making his son smile. Adam was glad to see the renewed interest, but he was curious about the nerves. He couldn’t recall a time in his life when his father had genuinely been nervous about something. Shep Wheeler was always cool, calm and confident.

  He watched his father hold a checkered button up, inspecting it. It was supposed to mimic the plaid pattern farmers coveted so much, but it was also a $300 dress shirt. It wasn't made of flannel, and it didn't look like it ought to be out in the fields.

  Shep’s eyes jumped to the clock, disheartened to see that his nerves - which he didn’t have - had made him waste a fair bit of time when it came to getting ready. He turned back around to the closet, staring at the clothes within but not moving.

  He tucked the plaid shirt away and reached for a simple, denim shirt. As soon as his hand wrapped around the shoulder, crinkling the paper hanger from the dry cleaner underneath he kn
ew it was the right choice. This, his cowboy boots and a pair of dark Wranglers. Like he had worn all that summer in Pleasant Lake.

  He stood there, reflecting on that when a strange feeling of betrayal washed over him. Not that he was betraying Elle by going out on this blind date, but that he was betraying Honey. It was a ridiculous thought; she had likely moved on and had a life of her own now. They had broken up, and there had never been a sense on either of their parts that it was going to be fixed. He wasn't betraying her; he was just caught up still thinking about her.

  "So, after you guys your weekend away, what happened next? You seemed happy." Like Adam was reading his thoughts he probed for the rest of the story.

  "Let me get dressed first. Can't afford to be half dressed and winded by the time the date comes around."

  He happily undid the tie around his neck and hung it up with the rest of the rarely worn accessories before beginning to unbutton the shirt he wore as he walked the denim shirt over to the bed.

  He shrugged the shirt off, taking a hanger down and tucking it away again with military precision. All his shirts were pressed by a dry cleaner and hung according to style. Casual, long sleeved casual, dressy short sleeved and dressy long sleeved with pants, slacks, and jeans on the bottom all color coordinated. Meticulous OCD; Adam had used him for a second-year paper as a test subject.

  He grabbed a pair of dark Wranglers and brought them back to the ensemble, giving Adam a look that said: 'be gone.'

  He rose with a chuckle, "don't think you're getting out of the story. I'll be right back."

  "Oh, I know." Shep undid the pants he was wearing as the door clicked softly behind Adam. Maybe he would sneak a smoke in now while he was gone. He dropped the pants, sweeping them up with his foot as he turned in the same motion and sat down. He fixed them up, rehanging them on the hanger from the jeans before glancing longingly once more at the bathroom.

  But he was dressed now, and the last thing he needed was for his clothes to stink like cigarettes. In this day and age, more and more people took offense to a smoker. What an impression he'd make if he came in smelling to high heaven.

  Resigned to being stuck now, he finished getting ready slowly. He couldn’t understand what made Adam so curious to know about a woman before his own mother. In his shoes, he would’ve never asked for the tale. But these were different times.

  He grabbed the jeans and worked them on. He left them hanging around his hips for a minute as he slipped the denim shirt on, tucking it into the waistband and doing the whole ensemble up. He needed a belt, and with one, he almost felt 25 again.

  Standing in front of the mirror, admiring the image reflecting back at him he mused for a moment that he no longer looked like an old man. He was too comfortable in his standard tan slacks and golf shirts. He looked like every other 50-something out there, giving in to the inevitable fate of time. Before him now, stood a man who didn't accept the fact that society told him he was over the hill. Age was relative, and if he felt 23 again, goddammit, he was 23 again.

  Chuckling to himself, uncharacteristically, he picked up his Old Spice and clapped a little onto his cheeks. From downstairs, he heard Adam shout for him as he grabbed a comb and ran it through his hair one more time. His appearance was as good as it was going to get between now and that damn date.

  Stopping by the closet to grab his cowboy boots first, Shep made his way back down to the first floor to finish his story.

  Chapter 16

  2019

  “You have a new email about Holly’s wedding.” Adam was sitting at the kitchen table, leaning over the iPad reading over his emails. Shep cleared his throat, making his eldest child jump and look up sheepishly.

  “Sorry, I just saw Holly’s name and got curious.”

  “No, excuse and you know it.” He chastised him as he took the iPad back from him and read over the email. He grunted, sitting down as he looked over the page. “How do I reply?”

  Adam laughed, leaning over and hitting the reply button. The keyboard came up, and Shep shook his head, getting to work typing a slow reply with one finger on each hand.

  “She wants to meet tonight.”

  “I can read.”

  “You have your date.”

  “This is more important; the date can be rescheduled. Holly’s wedding – however – cannot.”

  “You’re using this to avoid the date.”

  “No,” he said, looking up at Adam, “I’m prioritizing my daughter.” Sometimes Adam’s inherited impetuousness from his mother struck Shep the wrong way. This was one of those moments. As the kids got older, they thought it was okay to share their opinions when their opinions were clearly not welcomed.

  “You’re going to message her at least, and not stand her up?”

  “Of course, I am. Damn it, I hate this damned thing.” He pushed the iPad away from him and rose, walking off toward his office.

  “I’m getting the sense that being happy is not something you tend to run towards.” Adam followed after him, carrying the iPad which he set back on the desk to charge.

  Shep looked up from the computer, frowning and imploring his son to go on with his unwelcome psychological assessment.

  “Well, I know this story with Honey ends badly. And I know how your marriage with Mom worked.”

  “Do you now?”

  Adam continued, unperturbed by his interruption. “And now you’re pushing this next opportunity aside. I just don’t understand why you wouldn’t want to be happy. Isn’t that what everyone is striving towards?”

  “I am happy. I get happiness from things other than a relationship.”

  “But… intimacy.”

  Adam said the word like it carried some kind of weight that was going to resonate with him. And it did, to a degree. Intimacy was nice, having someone who knew you better than you knew yourself was nice. But Shep also recognized in the two serious relationships he'd had in his life he had ended up hurting his partner in one way or another.

  Maybe intimacy was just not something he was destined to ever truly achieve.

  “Do you think I’ll have to change for this meeting or will this be okay?” Shep decided against answering his son. He didn’t have an answer to give him anyways, anything he did say would be just to get Adam to stop talking about it.

  "You look good Dad."

  “Alright, good. I’m going to tell her to meet me at that restaurant you booked. No sense in wasting a good reservation.”

  He looked back down at the computer and continued typing, Adam took the hint and left his father to finish the emails. Shep stopped for a moment, listening to his son bang around in the kitchen, likely helping himself to food or something else. His kids always came into the house like they owned the place, but that was precisely what Elle would have wanted.

  He sighed as he looked down at his fingers, mind drifting back to Honey and he recalled how his lack of emotional intimacy had once hurt her too.

  1989

  One evening, after they finished in the fields, Honey found herself up in Shep's bedroom, waiting for him to finish his chores before they made plans for the night. She stretched out on his bed, pressing her face into his pillow and inhaling his scent as she comforted herself with it.

  Rolling onto her side, she turned the side table lamp on as the sun drifted below the horizon outside the window. The luminesce uncovering the secrets of the room.

  On the side table sat a small black diary. Unable to help herself Honey reached out, running her fingers against the soft leather. Her fingers caught the edge, and she flipped at it, watching the pages fan out under her. That's when she caught sight of what it was. In a flash, she grabbed the small book and picked it up.

  The cover peeled away to reveal an address book, each of the letter pages worn from constant use. On the first page of A's, she read through the names, each of them belonging to a woman - Anna, Ariel, Ashley…

  Following each name was a number, they varied from one to ten, and after eac
h denomination, there was a phone number. Honey's heart raced as she flipped through the book looking at every name obsessively. Every single name was a woman's. She knew because she checked it three times. There wasn't a single male name in the book.

  Well, that wasn’t exactly true.

  Honey found one: right at the beginning. Property of Shep Wheeler.

  She didn't have to read that three times. Instead, she rose from the bed and made her way to the bathroom, staring at the toilet for a moment before dropping the book into the bowl. It flipped open inside, the water soaking the pages and she watched as the ink began to bleed, turning the water a murky color.

  The names were still there, she could still read them, and in a fit of passion she reached out to flush the toilet. She grabbed the toilet bowl brush, jabbing at the pages and tearing the fragile pulp. The water spun, and she flushed again, attacking the book with vigor in an attempt to destroy it and be rid of it for good.

  It was halfway down the exit, pieces of paper now floating up toward her in spirals as the water rose out of the bowl.

  “Damn,” Honey whispered. Her eyes widened as she jabbed at the book again, growing more desperate with each passing second. Another flush only added to the rising tides of the toilet, water spilling out from under the seat now and dripping onto the floor.

  She turned, grabbing the towel from the bar and dropped it onto the ground stamping her foot down on top of it and swiping it around trying to mop it up at the same time. She jabbed again to stuff the book further down the hole, and the water sloshed around more.

  “Oh shit.”

  Chapter 17

  1989

  Water was going everywhere. It was spurting out now, she was wet, but the book was almost gone.

  This simple fact was the only thing spurring her on. She needed to get rid of it. She was going to be the only woman in his life. He didn't need this book anymore. She shoved the bowl cleaner deeper into the water, her hand submerging into the water now as she pushed the book deeper trying to clear the clog.

 

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